Changing Winds
by Morbid DramaQueen10
Summary: Ginny has escaped from her mother for a while. She's thinking about Harry.Deathly Hallows spoliers. Fluff.


Changing Winds

The air was warm and light with barely any breeze. She hadn't expected that. Extreme cold and rushing wind. That's what she wanted. She wanted the environment to wake her up, not to make her naturally feel relaxed and calm. She wanted reality, not another dream.

Harry was gone. She never got to say good-bye. That was understandable, the chaos and havoc obviously prevented him from doing so. Of course, there was no way she could be mad at him for that. Him not being able to contact her was forgiven too; he was on the run and her entire family was being watched. The fact that he didn't take her with him hurt a bit, yes, but there was no way she could stay mad.

It wasn't her ex-boyfriend that troubled Ginny; at least, he didn't trouble her right now. The thing that was eating at Ginny Weasly was the war. Everything was fine here at the Burrow. Ginny, being the only Weasly child still at home, was being suffocated. Home now felt a bit like prison. Mum had become so over protective, and she randomly burst into tears. If the Weasly children thought she was bad before the war, they were miserable now. Or, at least, they would have been if any of them were here. But it fell upon the only girl in the family to take that burden. "_Figures." _Ginny thought. It was a wonder she even managed to escape the clutches of her depressed parent at all. Silently, she thanked George and Fred fro the decoy detonators and dung bombs they had left their favorite sister.

The broom gently swayed under her. Stroking the handle she gave another thanks to her brother, whom she knew contributed to the purchase of her broom as congratulations for making the Griffendor Qudditch team. A second hand Nimbus. Perfect for a chaser.

Looking up at the sky, Ginny remembered her birthday was coming soon. Sixteen. And then it would be one more year till she came of age and left home. For possible the millionth time, she wondered where she would go, what she would do? Maybe, if the war was over by the… No, Harry wouldn't want to them do live together, would he? Would he still care about her, after this was all over? Perhaps he had met some beautiful Veela off in Germany, or where ever he was, and he loved that creature.

"Stupid," Ginny scolded herself. Harry won't do that. For Merlin's sake, he loves you. The only reason you're not together now is because he's trying to protect you. Honestly, it's not like he's on holiday, or anything like that.

Ginny hadn't the faintest idea of where Harry could be. Last she'd heard he was at Grimald place. But when Lupin went back a week ago the house was empty, save a moldy house elf. Kreacher said his master, his mudblood, and his blood traitor had gone to the ministry for some object a "toad-woman" had and they never came back. Even if she didn't know what their mission had been, she hoped they succeed. Anything to bring Harry home.

Lupin had been very grave when he told them that piece of new. Ginny believed he partly blamed himself. Apparently, there had been an agreement between himself and Harry. Lupin had left Grimald place when Harry accused him of being a coward. " Well," She thought. "He is. Trying to leave Tonks and the baby! It was understandable that Harry would be a bit touchy around that subject."

A lock of fiery red hair caught loose from her barrette, and she pushed it back. Mum would be out any minuet now. Ginny shuddered at the thought of another quiet night in the Burrow. Alone with Mum and Dad. What a jolly summer. Hopefully, Bill and Fleur could visit soon. Maybe she would send an owl after dinner to Fred and George begging them to come home.

"GINNY!" Molly called. Looking to the ground, Ginny saw her mother poking around the garden. That was the cue to fly down soon. Five more minuets of freedom, and then Molly would find her playing with Crookshanks, whom Hermione had left.

Sighing, Ginny closed her brown eyes and dreamed of a better time and another place. "Another year" she quietly promised her heart. "Another year, and we'll see."


End file.
